


out on the verge of the rest of our lives

by tanktrilby



Series: call them brothers [1]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8347687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanktrilby/pseuds/tanktrilby
Summary: Hyun shouts, "Kid, I have a warning for- oomph, stop running, dammit, I'm just trying to help you!" (Zen has a prophetic dream about two red-haired twins when he's sixteen, and because he's an idiot, he decides to get involved in their trainwreck of a life.)





	1. Chapter 1

They begin with the season for budding flowers and the whole world quivers with possibility. The streets are lined with pastel colors, and it smells like candy floss and the touch of summer sun on each individual needle of the pine trees.

He knows what he must look like leaning against his motorbike, dressed in leather. It’s the kind of town he’d stick out in swathed in greys and whites so he makes do, hiding his nervous fingers in his pockets. The church bell hasn’t stopped ringing since he got here, deep, bone-shuddering booms that sweep over the streets and leave them brittle and barren. It’s too early for more than a handful of hostile-faced office workers to pass by, crunching fallen petals under their shoes.

He tries not to think about what a stupid idea this was. How much trouble he’d be in if his parents find out. The look on his brother’s face when he says he’s disappointed.

He ducks his head into the popped collar of his jacket, and it feels like a punch when he sees a flash of red in the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” he starts, reaching, and—

The kid drops the loaf of bread in his arms and starts running.

He doesn’t think. Impulse control isn’t his strong suit. He chases the kid, his shock of cherry-red hair and limbs like twigs and the sound of quick gasping pants of asthmatic lungs. He chases the kid and catches him just as he slips on the pavement, one bony elbow planted in his stomach as he tries to cushion the kid’s fall.

He swears. Eloquently. His leg is on fire and the kid is struggling like a wildcat, all claws and teeth. He tightens his grip and glares at the little hellspawn.

 “Kid, chill the fuck out,” he says, deeply unhappy with the teethmarks he can feel, but not see, lining his arms. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

The kid peers up at him. He looks like an adorable stick insect with his oversized glasses and his razor-sharp limbs, helplessly endearing despite the ferocity in his eyes.

“You’re not like the others,” the kid decides. The suspicion in those big insect eyes doesn’t fade one bit. “You’re younger. And you’re weird like V.”

“I’m Hyun,” Hyun says.

“If you’re working for my father, then you’re really bad at it,” says the kid. “You’re really con- constipated.”

Hyun snorts and earns himself a glare. “Conspicuous,” he says, generously.

The kid shakes his head. “Nah, I like my one better.”

This is ridiculous. Hyun drops his head on the pavement and breathes in the crushed flowers. “This is ridiculous. I’m dealing with the sassiest ten-year-old in the planet.”

“I’m twelve!”

Hyun rolls his eyes. “Well then. The sassiest, _scrawniest_ twelve-year-old on the planet.”

The kid pouts, and gets up to his sneakered feet. He holds out a hand to help Hyun up and Hyun takes it, amused and touched. He winces when he puts weight on his left foot. Ah, fuck. Twisted ankle. 

“I’m big! You should see my brother, he’s really little, even though we’re twins.”

Hyun remembers his dream; the mirror-images holding hands. _Twins._ One mystery solved.

He exhales through his teeth. “Kid, I was looking for you because I have a warning for you.”

The kid readies himself like any hardened soldier, skipping fear and landing straight in weary acceptance.

Hyun’s heart aches. This kid is _twelve years old._

“You’re going to get offered a way out of this shithole today. I’m not clear on the details but a man will come to you, turquoise hair, around my age. And he’ll make an offer. What I’m saying is: _do not take that offer._ Do you understand? _”_

The kid’s tawny eyes are shuttered and flinty. “I don’t know where you got that information, but it’s probably highly illegal. If I report you to the police, I think you’ll be thrown in jail right now. And if my claims aren’t enough for me to be taken seriously, I’d like to remind you what this looks like. I’m a child. You are, legally, an adult. Do you really want to risk being taken in on assault charges as well?”

Hyun freezes. “What? Kid, I only want to help—”

“And I’m telling you right now: your help is not needed,” the kid says, icy. “Now please leave, and never try to tell me what’s best for me ever again.”

It’s the spark of rebellion in those last few words that makes Hyun find his voice again. “Kid, I’m telling you right now before you make a huge mistake. The out that that guy is offering- it’s not for you. You’ll be unhappy and alone the rest of your life. He’ll make you _leave_ your _brother_ , I’m not kidding, it’s gonna break your heart but you’ll do it, you’re desperate so you’ll do anything, _but please, don’t do this._ Don’t leave your brother alone. _”_

In Hyun’s dream, the laughing boy had split with his reflection on the mirror and his laughter had stopped. The reflection was inconsolable, weeping as he watched the boy leave.

Hyun says, “Please.”

Those insect eyes examine the tears that blot Hyun’s lashes. Gently, he says, “You’re not that much older than me, are you, Hyun?”

Anxious as he is, this takes a beat for Hyun to process. He bristles. “I’m sixteen. Old enough.”

“And how do you know all this? I promise I won’t report you.”

“I look,” Hyun says in his best baritone, “into the future.”

The kid gives him a withering look.

The truth is that Hyun doesn’t get it himself. He knows that it has to do with what he’s thinking about before he falls asleep, but then he’s fairly certain he’s wasn’t thinking about the problems of two unhappy Catholic twins last night. He’s never had a prophetic dream that shook him so deeply, either, one that lingered even after he woke up, prickling with urgency across his skin.

Instead of saying any of that, he says, “Just trust me. I’m the Defender of Justice and I’m here to protect the twins Scrawny and Scrawnier, and kid, you don’t pick fights with Defenders of Justice. It just isn’t done.”

The kid’s severe mouth does something weird: it unfurls, revealing rows of small white teeth, and his eyes start to crinkle, and Hyun realizes with incredulity that this pint-sized hardass is _laughing._

“Really? _Really? This_ is your sense of humor?”

“Defender of Justice,” the kid giggles. “That’s so cool, I’m keeping that.”

Hyun gazes down at him in dismay. “You are _so weird.”_

The kid wipes a tear from his eye, still kind of vibrating with laughter. “My name’s Saeyoung. My brother, he’s Saeran, he’s a total softie so he’d love it if you visit. Just for a little. Um. I’d hate it, of course, so don’t get the wrong idea.”

Something about this made Hyun think of going back home, miles away. How wretched his life was back there, how it was still home. How his parents hated everything he was, but still tried to love him. How his brother changed, and how much he wanted Hyun to change as well. It was all Hyun had in the whole wide world. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything.

“Yeah, okay,” Hyun says, and breathes out.

*

Saeyoung is a cheap date. He begins salivating as soon as he sees Hyun’s -admittedly awe-inspiring- motorbike, and when they stop at the supermarket he only asks for chips. Hyun perhaps goes overboard when he sees how happy they make Saeyoung, and buys more bags than can comfortably fit onto his bike. Saeyoung offers to give up his spot on the seat for the chips, and Hyun flatly declines.

The path that Saeyoung points out next isn’t a path so much as a trail through the valley and Hyun sets his baby’s wheels on it gingerly, swerving to avoid potholes. The deeper into the mountains they go, the gladder he gets that he didn’t let Saeyoung come alone. The words _he’s just a kid, he’s just a fucking kid_ echo all through his brain.

“Wait here,” Saeyoung says once the houses have become so sparse and so far apart that no one would hear if you yelled. He helps Hyun push the bike into the forest of pine trees and begins to turn away.

Hyun catches him by the wrist. “Saeyoung, what’s going on?”

“This is where V and I usually meet,” Saeyoung says. “I’m going to go and try and get Saeran while our mother’s sleeping.”

His eyes are fever-bright. _Just a fucking kid,_ Hyun thinks again.

“Alright. Don’t get caught.”

Saeyoung beams - _beams-_ and speeds away.

Half-hidden in the evergreens, Hyun scratches a nail across the back of his hand. It turns a shade even paler than the perennial snow-white of his skin before it turns to red and he studies it, thinking about calling his parents. There wouldn’t be a chance after this. He’s sure of it.

His stomach plummets as soon as he sees the number. He remembers the last conversation they had and why he took off across the country to check up on two strangers in the first place. They don’t worry, they’re just outraged that he’s as disobedient and willful as he is.

In the end he sends them a text. He can’t fix all bad blood between them, but he doesn’t want whatever happens next to be tainted by the knowledge that his parents still wish he was someone else.

As soon as he receives the delivery message, a voice hisses, “Hyun! Over here!”

It turns out to be Saeyoung, holding hands with a neater-haired, terrified-looking version of himself. Within the space of five seconds, the other one spots Hyun, flinches, tries to hide behind his carbon copy, fails, and trips over a tree root, bringing Saeyoung down with him.

It’s a moment of such unadulterated comedy that Hyun has to take a deep, shocked breath before he begins to laugh- harder than he has in _years._ What makes it worse is the way Saeyoung has begun to swear, filthy and vicious, and his brother is torn between scolding him and panicking. All in all, it takes them more than three minutes to settle themselves so they’re all upright, with Saeyoung glowering at Hyun, who’s still chuckling, and Saeran glancing nervously between them. 

“Seriously? _This_ is your humor?” he asks, as petty and smug as a squirrel with its cheeks puffed up.

Hyun makes a face.

Ignoring this, Saeyoung turns to his twin and says, “This weirdo is Hyun. Don’t worry, people in the real world aren’t as loud as he is. Are you scared?”

Color climbs up Saeran’s cheeks. Instead of replying he says, “Mother will be upset when she sees our dirty clothes.”

His voice suits him. Although Saeyoung is full of sparks and sound, he stares at the world with a frank, calculating gaze. Saeran is quiet like a church mouse that lives in the rafters, living in his own little church mouse world. He is scared, but not untrusting.

Hyun understands the tight grip Saeyoung has on his hand.

“I was going to ask V for help today,” Saeyoung says. “But I want you to be here when V tells me about it, so we can decide together.”

“Okay,” says Saeran, nodding.

“And…I wanted you to meet Hyun.” Saeyoung’s voice goes even gentler. “If the outside world has people like him in it, then I think we’ll be okay.”

Hyun bows his head and flushes, embarrassed to be hearing this. It’s Saeyoung’s fault, for having such an intimate conversation so near someone he only met today. Although there’s no question about what he wants, which is to spread this brilliant thread of trust and love towards him, to _include_ him. No one can deny that Saeyoung is a sneaky little trickster with a heart the size of a planet.

Softer than snow, Saeran says, “Are they going to be as beautiful as him, too?”

Hyun gasps, jerking his head up to stare at him with wide eyes. Saeran smiles back shyly.

“What?”

Saeyoung looks away quickly. The tips of his ears are red. “Don’t fish for compliments.”

Saeran observes his brother with confused amusement. To Hyun, he says, “I’m happy someone as beautiful as you exists in the outside world. Someone who looks like an angel.”

Hyun says, “But I’m not-”

But there’s a voice speaking over him in a polished, cultured accent.

“You didn’t tell me there was an entire orphanage, V.”

The man from Hyun’s prophetic dream holds his hands out. It’s a gesture of entreaty, and he does it with such grace that it seems almost unreal. _He_ seems unreal, something out of a good dream.

Following him is another boy. He’s dressed - _how pretentious-_ in a suit that looks none the worse for wear from having trudged through the forest. He’s handsome in a painfully classical way, like god ran out of creativity when he drew the blueprints for this pretty-boy.

Worst of all there’s an expression on his face. Smug and bored. Superior. Unruffled by the way the twins cling to each other.

Hyun’s hackles rise even as Saeyoung says, sharply, “V? Who is he? You didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone.”

The stranger barely blinks. “Calm down. I’m no one dangerous.” His eyes travel the clearing and observe the twins' linked hands with clinical detachment, then move on, past Hyun as if he weren't even there. “My name is Jumin Han.”

*

Hyun rests his chin on his drawn-up legs, hugging them close. From this angle the teenagers are long-limbed and passive-faced, like hostile giants. He thinks about his own parents, converging on him with their expectations. He thinks of the way his brother defended him till he, too, decided Hyun wasn’t anyone worth defending.

It’s easy to sink into nostalgia and the familiar sadness. His home is so far away. His home is gone.

Saeyoung looks smaller as he glares up at V, and Saeran is smaller still, huddled behind his brother. His honey eyes are on Hyun, and Hyun sees fear and worry there. _Hey, Mouse,_ he mouths. _Scared?_

Saeran’s eyes widen, pink beginning to dust his cheeks. He averts his head and bobs his head, updown.

Well then. Hyun breathes in to push aside the stab of pain that’s been digging through his skull since he first saw V speak to Saeyoung, the way the whole thing is _skewed,_ as if reality is an imperfect after-image of his dream.

His head throbs again and V asks, “Saeyoung, will you accept this offer?”

“No,” says Hyun, promptly.

“Mm, no,” Saeyoung agrees.

“No,” Saeran says in his high, clear voice, and flinches away from V’s questioning look.

Jumin Han whirls to face Hyun for the first time since they met. Hyun, who had expected dead-fish eyes, takes in a quick little breath when he sees that Jumin Han’s eyes are sparking and alive, full of emotion that twists and writhes restlessly.

“I think it’s time you explained who the hell he is, Saeyoung,” Jumin Han says. His syllables are sharp and clipped, like he’s biting off the end of every word with a clack of teeth.

“He can talk,” Saeyoung points out. Little shit.

“He’s an angel,” Saeran offers unexpectedly. He smiles bashfully at Hyun, not noticing his incredulity or his reddened ears.

Hyun clears his throat. “Um. I’m Hyun Ryu. I’m here to help the kids out, because I think that what you’re trying to make Saeyoung do is ridiculous. He’s _twelve years old,_ and you want him to _leave his brother_ and become a _secret agent?_ What do you think this is, some kind of teen action comedy? You think he’s going to have exciting adventures and make new friends once he’s separated from his brother to do a job that could end up _getting him killed?_ No, all he’s going to be doing is a job that no one except a desperate kid would agree to do.”

V doesn’t frown, but something simmers behind his eyes. “There are no more options left to them, Hyun. Informed as you are, I wonder if you know the struggles they face if they don’t take this chance.”

White-hot rage flares up in him. It itches to boil over and spread, to give itself form through violence.

“Your good intentions are admirable,” V intones, “but until someone suggests a less drastic solution, I’m afraid that this is the one that I support and encourage Saeyoung to take.”

Hyun leashes his anger, then he dissects it. _He has a point. What can you, broke, stupid, talentless, do for two kids? Your future is bleak enough, you want to decide what they should do too? They’re good kids, they deserve better. He’s right._

“You’re wrong,” Jumin Han declares, arching one derisive eyebrow. He’s been sitting quiet all this while except to sneer at and project general condescension towards Hyun, and Hyun had assumed he’d been too preoccupied with the grass stains on his expensive-looking trousers to actually give a damn about the whole thing. Apparently not.

“You’ve been having second thoughts ever since you came up with this ridiculous plan,” Jumin Han goes on to announce. “That’s why you made me come here in the first place.”

V snaps, “Like I said. None of that makes this any less hopeless.”

Jumin Han looks at him like he’s slow. “V, _I’m here.”_

Entire moments pass as V puzzles this out. Jumin Han tilts his head and waits while Saeyoung and Saeran move, imperceptibly, closer together.

Finally, V’s striking eyes widen in comprehension. “Jumin, I can’t possibly ask this of you. No, no, that’s not why I asked you to join me at all. Who do you think I am? If you’re so intent on misunderstanding--”

“Your overemotional posturing is contagious.” Jumin Han flicks a lazy look at Hyun.

Hyun splutters, “What the _fuck_?”

“V, this is not a hopeless situation because I’m here now. And I’m really not accusing you of manipulating me with the woeful tale of two orphan boys, I’m just following the logical progression of the desperate need for resources and the simultaneous abundance of said resources. I’m saying,” he pauses to sneer at Hyun, “that I have money, and money could solve all their problems.”

“Oh my god,” Hyun says before he can stop himself. “You are _such_ a cliché of a trust fund kid.”

“And we’re not orphans,” Saeyoung pipes up. “I mean, that’s the whole problem.”

The situation cries out for a high-five, and Hyun bows to the impulse, grinning. Saeyoung adjusts his glasses solemnly. “You were saying, Mr Han?”

Jumin Han’s making a face like he bit into a lemon. Lemon-faced, he says to V, “There weren’t _any_ other charity cases you could have picked?”

“Hey,” Hyun says sharply. “Mr. Trust Fund Kid. That’s not how the world works, throwing money at a problem until it goes away. You don’t even care enough about Saeyoung and Saeran to get what their lives are like, what they’re going through, they’re just your Good Deed for the day.”

Jumin Han says in a voice of cold hard metal, “You misunderstand me. Any problem will be solved by throwing _enough_ money at it, something no commoner will have any experience with, much less someone who lived his life using his face as a currency.”

“It’s not up to either of you to decide,” Saeyoung snaps. “So both of you shut up. You’re scaring Saeran.”

For a moment, Hyun stares at him, shocked. Then he looks at gentle Saeran. Somehow he has ended up trembling, his hands clapped tightly over his ears. Saeyoung has both arms around him. Only now does Hyun remember that this is Saeran’s first venture out of his church-mouse world.

It switches off his anger in its ugly entirety.

“I’m so sorry, Mouse. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Neither did Jumin Han, we just got carried away.” He gives his best smile to the big wet eyes that peer up at him. “Forgive us?”

Saeran manages a shaky nod.

Saeyoung complains. Loudly. “Why are you only nice to him.”

“I’m sorry to say this, but your personality doesn’t inspire kindness,” V teases.

“Ass-kicking is what it inspires,” Hyun adds.

“You’re special in your own way,” V says pragmatically as Hyun and Saeyoung pull faces at each other. “We all are. Which is why I think that Jumin’s suggestion has some merit. Not a lot, but enough for us to consider it.”

Jumin Han rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you with my philanthropic spirit, V.”

Hyun digs his nails into his jeans. It kills him to say it, but it’s true: “It’s up to the kids.”

“Let’s go over the details first,” V proposes. “What, exactly, did you have in mind, Jumin?”

Jumin Han drags a sharp, assessing gaze across all of them first, gauging their sincerity.

“New identities,” he says finally. “Papers. Identification. A new town, a new life. There are many apartment complexes I own throughout the city, I can guarantee your safety.”

Now Saeyoung’s voice turns high and incredulous. “The capital? Do you even know who we’re running from? Our father lives there!”

“I’m aware,” Jumin Han reiterates. “But you’d also be a great deal more invisible in a crowded city than in a village where they can comfortably keep track of you.”

When Saeyoung worries his lip looking uncertain, Saeran nudges him. “It makes sense.”

“You would have to live your life undercover,” Jumin Han expostulates. “New names, a new city. But you’ll get to stay together.”

“Hold up,” Hyun says. The twins’ eyes have gone starry and kind of glazed-over, making him suspect that they’re not actually holding up. He barrels on anyway.

“Is there any guarantee that their father won’t track them down, even if they’re in the city? And hiding your real identity is hard enough without the pressure of an army of goons waiting to kidnap you as soon as they realize who you are.”

Saeyoung says, “We can manage,” but it sounds uncertain, not defiant. He’s biting his lip again and the glow in his eyes fading. Hyun feels kind of sick.

“Immediate practicalities first, please,” V chides. “We’ll look at the big picture later, yes? We’re yet to address the pressing issue in front of us, which is how we can possibly expect two sheltered children to live on their own.”

Saeyoung’s shoulders hunch.

“It sounded too good to be true, anyway,” Saeran says, taking his cue from the wrecked, empty look on his brother’s downturned face. “Thank you for trying. It’s nice to know that the real world has so many kind people in it.”

“Mouse,” Hyun says. “Saeran.”

Saeran pulls Saeyoung closer, petting his hair with small, careful hands. Saeyoung’s shaking like a leaf.

“My brother and I would like to go back as soon as we can,” Saeran says, looking at V. In his arms, Saeyoung quakes. “We’ll be in big trouble if we stay any more. I’m sure Mother’s been awake for some time now, looking for us, and--”

“I’ll do it,” Hyun blurts, the words mashing together in his haste. “I’ll do it, god, I was going to pack the two of you up and go on the run anyway. Like hell I’m letting you live like this.”

 The cellphone in Jumin Han’s hand falls on the grass without a sound.

V’s face is shocked. “What did you say?”

He’s looking at Hyun like he’s seeing him for the first time. It’s a look that Hyun has grown up hating; the one that was followed swiftly by judgment, because he had _attracted unneeded attention again._ It’s bad enough that he looks so unnatural without going out of his way to stand out even more.

Hyun shirks away from his question. He looks at the twins instead.

Saeyoung’s eyes are wide and he’s still staring at the grass, looking more insect-like than ever. When a beat passes, he looks up and the expression on his face-- it’s too raw. It’s too much. Hyun flushes and looks away.

Before Hyun can puzzle out the fog of emotion winding around the twins, Jumin Han says, flatly, “What.”

“I wasn’t going to kidnap them!” Hyun half-shouts. “ _God_ no. I would never-- I just wanted give them an out. Even if nothing else worked out. They, they’d have me. I know it doesn’t make sense, I mean, I just met them today. But I came here to stop them from making an awful decision, and now I’m going to see it through.”

“But, Hyun,” presses V. He extends his fair hands, imploring. “Your life. Your family. How can you possibly--”

“Not in the picture,” Hyun interrupts. “I was saving up to get my own place as soon as I could, anyway. This is a little earlier than I expected, but I can adjust.”

“This is a little more serious than moving out after high school,” Jumin says harshly. “You’ll be responsible for the lives of two children. Do you understand the gravity of that? One fit of your uncontrollable melodrama, and they’ll be taken away forever.”

There is a pause. Although the venom had come to be expected, this has an ugly forcefulness behind it. Hyun narrows his eyes at him, his skin prickling.

Then V says, in a very deliberate tone of voice, “Jumin, your personal feelings are no reason to be an asshole.”

Saeyoung gasps out a startled laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Don’t be an asshole, Jumin. _V said it first,”_ he protests, seeing the looks on their faces.

“I’m twelve, not ten,” he sulks.

Jumin Han dimples when he laughs. Hyun stares at him in slow-dawning awe as Jumin Han -- _Jumin_ , just a nineteen-year-old for all that he talked and dressed like a dad-- laughs and laughs like he’s falling off a roof, free for the first time; enough to make the rest of them look at each other in confused wonder.

And it’s impossible to deny now that they’re enveloped in Jumin’s rich, warm chuckles: the fact that something electric and irrevocable is happening in this clearing. Euphoric, the twins are laughing along, their lovely fluting voices ringing out like a song. They are all at the brink of something new, something tremendous and good.

“But, for fuck’s sake, Jumin,” Hyun says, shaking his head, “ _this_ is your sense of humor?”

Saeyoung falls over laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So initially I thought I aged Zen up, but welp no turns out I actually aged the twins down by two years, so that the ages look like this:  
> Saeyoung and Saeran: 12  
> Zen: 16  
> Jaehee: 18  
> Jumin and V: 19  
> Yoosung: still in the womb??? idk idk he's still a long way off from being introduced


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ETA: i was editing around because this was supposed to be 2 chapters long, not 4, when the comments got deleted as well RIP. i fucked up ifuckedup for my next trick i will drown myself in the fuckign ocean

Technically, both of these twins are geniuses even though one of them is kind of touched in the head.

“Hyun!” The shout comes from a completely different section of the supermarket. Hyun adds ‘teleportation’ to the list of skills that twelve-year-old geniuses have, because Saeyoung was peering at the detergent with owlish curiosity not two seconds ago. “Look at this super neat thing!”

Neither Jumin’s dark predictions nor V’s optimism prepared him for the reality of being responsible for the lives of two children that he helped to run away from home. They get along well, and Hyun thinks that the twins are starved enough for a positive adult presence in their lives that they’d adore him even if he does a shitty job of it. But they’re good kids, used to taking care of themselves and looking out for each other. It’s a matter of them making space for Hyun in their lives.

Right now, though, Saeyoung is sparkling at the rows of soda, looking pretty far from the emotionally mature miniature genius he’s supposed to be. In the bright lights of the supermarket, his bright yellow T-shirt and the orange jacket on top of it combine with his flashy red hair to make him look like an enthusiastic glowworm. This was not a kid who was climbing the ranks to become the best hacker on the planet. This was a kid stuck firmly in his Naruto phase.

He darts forward a little and grips Hyun’s wrist. “Come on, Hyun, you’ve gotta see all these flavors!”

His hyperactivity fluctuates between being achingly endearing to fucking obnoxious. Hyun flips through his own mood to check which one he’s being right now.

“Wow, you’re getting slower,” Saeyoung says. “Must be all those chips you keep eating.”

Definitely obnoxious.

“What would you know, midget,” Hyun says.

It’s not a great comeback. Saeyoung smirks up at him and Hyun swats at his smugness like it’s a fly buzzing around his ears.

Saeyoung is going into raptures over the durian when Saeran quietly reappears at his side. “I got us wet wipes,” he says, handing Hyun a box.

Hyun had freaked the fuck out the first time Saeran had done that-- just vanished without a trace while they were at a rest stop, leaving behind a seemingly unconcerned Saeyoung to explain to Hyun that Saeran sometimes preferred being on his own. As part of their effort to shake the twins’ father off, they took a long road full of detours, stopping only at places Jumin’s people had verified as safe. That meant a lot of hours crammed in different back seats.

“It’s not like he doesn’t like us,” Saeyoung had said, rolling his eyes at Hyun’s unhappy expression. “He’s just doing his own thing. Now that he gets to do it. He’s grateful.”

Still, Hyun had fretted. What if they lost track of him? But apparently there was a mysterious twinnish connection that let Saeran pop back next to his brother whenever he felt like it, like Saeyoung was a planet that Saeran was orbiting.

Hyun puts the wet wipes in the trolley. “Thanks, Mouse. I think that’s everything. Time to scram.”

Saeran says, “Okay,” and slips his small hand into Hyun’s. Hyun beams down at him, and transfers his gaze to Saeyoung.

“Just get all of them. It’s Jumin’s money anyway,” he says with a sigh. Saeyoung’s torn expression slowly, slowly breaks into a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

It’s the last stop before they reach their destination, and the cashier blinks at their haul: miscellaneous snacks and a few doubtfully-chosen vegetables, a frying pan and a pair of headphones, endless hair dye and soda in every color of the rainbow.

“Credit,” Hyun says, giving her his nicest smile.

The cashier blinks some more. Her cheeks start to go pink.

“Okay,” she says.

*

The final leg of their journey lasts four hours. The twins murmur to each other and Hyun keeps to himself, drumming his fingers on the seat and trying to calm his nerves. Saeyoung had taught him the trick of spotting his father’s men, and even if they haven’t caught up to them yet, it had been jarring to take note of how long they’d been followed before they shook them.

The four hours drift by in thought. The car slides to a stop ten minutes after they enter the city, and Jumin’s staff begins the familiar, well-oiled routine of getting them out of the car and inside the building without letting anyone take note of their faces.

The apartment that they picked out is in the first floor. Saeran acted as mediator for this compromise between Saeyoung, who liked heights, and Hyun who wanted the basement. It’s a little startlingly bare, but it’s big, and it’s theirs. None of them can stop grinning. It looks out into the back garden, and the twins get a double bed like they’d wanted. Hyun spots the curtains and shakes his head, smiling. It’s a detail Hyun had overlooked --anyone sharing the garden can see into their lives from this window-- and the curtains, solid blue like a calling card, can prevent that. It’s a gesture so thoughtful it’s a little hard to believe it comes from Jumin Han.

The things they accumulated over the journey get delivered over the day in boxes. When the last batch of clothes comes in, Hyun ticks it off while the kids wave to kindly old Driver Kim and send him on his way. They turn back to face the apartment, as proud as two tiny kings.

“Mi casa su casa, Saeran,” Saeyoung says impressively, hands at his hips.

They laugh, and like in the clearing with V and Jumin, it’s more exhilaration than anything else, the sheer, vivid adrenaline rush of getting one in over all the adults in the world. Hyun didn’t let himself think about it during the journey, but what they pulled off was nothing short of _insane,_ the combination of Jumin’s stupidly endless money, Hyun’s bullshitting skills, the quick-thinking and resourcefulness of the twins and sheer, dumb _luck._

“This is the _best thing_ ,” Saeyoung breathes. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened.”

Hyun leans down and hugs them tight. Two pairs of arms fight to wrap around him and there are elbows everywhere, and he’s still laughing, still a little high on delight. “What the fuck, guys,” he blurts. “What the fuck did we just pull off.”

“A miracle,” Saeran says. He runs a little cooler than hot-blooded Saeyoung, but he hugs just as tight, just as needy, just as recklessly sincere. “Because that’s what angels do.”

“Stop it, stop _stop,”_ Saeyoung yells, his mouth still right next to Hyun’s flushed ear. “We’re adults now, all three of us. Time to get down to adult business. Like sorting the chips. And gardening! That’s definitely an adult thing to do.”

“I’d like to go back and look at that park we saw, if that’s okay,” confesses Saeran shyly.

Hyun weighs the options. It’s late, approaching dusk-- maybe the best time to get a feel for the neighborhood without attracting attention. The kids were cooped up in different cars for the better part of three days. Hyun himself can use some fresh air.

“Alright,” he decides. “First order of business: those dangerous funguses growing on top of your heads.”

Saeyoung claps both hands on his bright mop of scarlet with a wounded look while Saeran giggles. “Red is a perfectly natural color for hair,” Saeyoung protests.

“Too conspicuous.”

“Constipated, you mean,” Saeyoung corrects smugly.

“Smartasses get dishwashing duty for a week.”

“What a difficult household we’ve found ourselves in,” Saeyoung muses sadly to Saeran.

“Two weeks,” Hyun threatens.

Peals of laughter break free from both twins as they flee, leaving Hyun to blink after them. “You’ll have to catch us first!” Saeyoung shouts and Hyun, ever obliging, lets out his mightiest roar.

*

“First order of business,” Hyun repeats maybe two hours later, the sky through the windows turned a solid shade of black. He’s a little out of breath. “No redheads will be tolerated in the Ryu-Choi household.”

One of the offending redheads protests sleepily. Hyun can’t bother opening his eyes to check which one it is. Monsters, both of them, for making him trip and tumble through every room, bouncing on beds, skidding around furniture, ambushing him from cupboards.

“Nope, not having it,” Hyun says. He begins the long, laborious climb to his feet saying, “If we get this sorted out now, we can actually go outside tomorrow.”

This gets Saeran moving. Saeyoung squeaks in dismay when he realizes that, seduced by the prospect of parks and open areas where he can roam to his strange little heart’s content, Saeran is tugging them both upright. Hyun grins to himself and goes to find the boxes of hair dye.

In no time at all, Saeyoung is scowling and raven-haired and Hyun is surveying his handiwork proudly. “You look weird with black hair,” he observes.

Saeyoung’s scowl deepens. “This was a terrible idea.”

“No,” Saeran says, gently dismissive. “I want to color my hair. Can we make mine white? We won’t look like twins then.”

“Well sure,” Hyun says with confusion. “But isn’t white a little constipated too, Mouse? Why white?”

To his astonishment, Saeran flushes fire-truck red instead of replying and refuses to meet his eyes.

Saeyoung sighs like a ninety year old man. “Just dye it the same as mine. Anyone who looks at at our faces for more than two seconds can tell we’re twins.”

“Mouse, that okay?” Hyun asks and receives a small nod in response.

The back of Saeran’s neck remains red for the entirety of the process, even after Hyun has rinsed his hair and has begun to dry it off in gentle circular motions. Even for someone as quiet as a church mouse, this is unusual. Hyun pauses uncertainly.

Saeyoung’s eyes are sharp and alert. “Saeran, what’s wrong?”

“I--” Saeran says. “I’m not feeling so good.”

He sounds like he’s struggling to _breathe,_ dragging in wet little rasps that seem to rattle in his lungs before he lets them out in a wheeze. When Saeyoung pushes his head up with panic-stricken hands his face is swollen, thick fat tears rolling down his reddened cheeks.

Hyun’s heart stops.

“ _Saeran_ ,” Saeyoung whispers.

Distressed, he moves to scoop his brother up in his arms. The way they both crawl toward each other and hold on tight when they’re hurt without asking for help makes something harden in Hyun’s heart.

“Saeyoung,” he commands. His voice isn’t ungentle. “Watch your brother for a second. I’ll be back with help.”

Saeyoung lifts his blank gaze to his face. Hyun pauses on his way out.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he promises in a rough voice. “Your brother’s gonna be fine.”

Saeyoung’s hands spasm around his brother. He blinks, letting a few tears fall.

“Okay.”

 Running through the list of options available to them doesn’t take long. Without knowing any of the local hospitals and not being registered under their new names yet, directly approaching professionals is out of the question.

He’s only seen their neighbors once, a brief glimpse of curious brown eyes before Jumin’s men ushered them gently away. When he raps on their door an unfamiliar pair of dark grey eyes, belonging to a middle aged woman with a pinched mouth, greets him.

“Sorry to bother you,” he says, his words loose and tripping over each other in his fear. He wishes he’d taken a minute to compose himself. “Sorry. But my brother-- he’s having some kind of allergic reaction, and--”

“You’re the ones who moved to 106,” the woman realizes. Her eyes flit away from his and fix over his shoulder. “Ah, who were those strange men in suits earlier? Will they be around often?”

“What men?” Hyun demands, eyes wide and incredulous. “Look, ma’am, my brother looks like he’s about to pass out and-”

“Is that so?” she says. “That’s too bad.”

Hyun catches the door before it closes. Whatever’s on his face makes her go milk-white, her fingers clenching and unclenching on the handle.

“Ma’am,” he says. “I just want--”

“Got it!” cries a voice from inside. “Found the steroid cream. Excuse us, Auntie.”

With that, a girl pushes past the woman at the door and strides out of Hyun’s neighbor’s apartment, smiling apologetically but not looking back. She makes her way purposefully straight to Hyun’s door, then through it with no hesitation.

Hyun shakes himself. Ignoring the enraged woman inside the apartment, he returns and finds Saeyoung holding an armful of shampoos and moisturizers and wearing a baffled expression.

“These are perfectly textbook symptoms of anaphylaxis,” the girl is saying as she efficiently rinses Saeran’s head in the sink. “It’s foolish to try this without even a basic patch test, especially when it’s so simple and hardly consumes any time or effort.”

“We did do the patch test,” Saeyoung supplies meekly. “On me. I’m his twin. We thought that’d be enough.”

The girl rolls her eyes violently as she begins shampooing Saeran’s hair. “Hardly. Biological twins have never been documented to have the same allergies. If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s shoddy research.”

“Sorry,” Hyun and Saeyoung chorus.

The girl scoffs. “Just be thankful I still had my steroid cream with me, and that I recognized the symptoms from your disorganized rambling.”

“Thank you,” Hyun and Saeyoung say again.

Saeyoung adds, “He’ll be okay, right?”

“He _is_ okay,” the girl says. “Give me that cream and towel.”

Watching her bundle Saeran’s hair into a turban to keep it off his face, and then start to dab cream on the swollen patches of skin, Hyun says, “You know a lot about this stuff.”

There’s a silence.

“My mother was a nurse, before she passed,” the girl says. She’s wearing the softest expression she’s had since she first barged in to help, and it makes her brown eyes go warm and liquid. “She taught me a lot.”

Hyun looks down at Saeyoung. It’s maybe the first time anyone has shown such a pure, uncomplicated love for a parent in front of the twins. The girl’s voice is laced with sweet affection and longing, her loneliness plain and on display for just this moment.

And instead of resentment or anger, Saeyoung, true to form, is fascinated. “You miss your mom.”

The girl tilts her head. “I suppose,” she says. “But that’s impractical. So I only try to think about it on the anniversary of her death.”

Hyun is filled with awe, both at Saeyoung with his easy acceptance and at the girl for having a fucking _system,_ of all things, to deal with her grief. It’s almost impossible to picture-- burning at a steady pace instead of flaring up in a blaze of emotion, sputtering out as quickly as he ignites.

“No more hair dye for you,” she tells a messy-haired Saeran as Saeyoung and Hyun gape at her. Saeran nods, solemn. “I mean it. You’re very severely allergic to PPD and the risks could include fainting and vomiting.”

Looking nauseous already, Saeran nods. “Yes, miss.”

Saeyoung gravitates back to his side, touching his hands fretfully. “Saeran,” he says.

“How are you feeling, Mouse?” Hyun asks, kneeling. His breathing has evened out, no longer those desperate half-coughs that Hyun hated.

Saeran gives them a small smile. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I worried you.”

Hyun gives them both a brief, tight hug, careful to avoid the medicine drying on Saeran’s face. “We’ve got this, guys,” he says, soft enough so only they can hear. “We’re gonna be just fine.”

Then he stands. He doesn’t know how to show gratitude to another person-- has no practice with it from his old life-- so he settles for smiling awkwardly at the girl. “I don’t know what to say,” he admits. “We’re so grateful, you have no idea. I’m in your debt.”

And this girl-- this unshakable, bossy girl with a heart like a city, controlled chaos, so much concern and kindness in every scold-- she _blushes._

“It was no trouble,” she mumbles, her eyes flitting all around without landing on Hyun’s.

“Oh boy,” Saeyoung sighs.

“Tell us your name at least, so we can thank you properly,” Hyun says, still trying to catch her eye. She’s clearly uncomfortable with his efforts, though, so he gives up. “My name’s Hyun.”

“I’m Saeyoung, and this is Saeran.” Saeyoung adds, “We’re your neighbors! It’s a really good thing you live so close. We were never friends with our neighbors, where we used to live before.”

“Oh,” says the girl, blinking. “Friends. Is that what we are?”

Hyun closes his eyes and thinks, _fucking orphans._

He can picture Saeran’s smile as his clear voice pipes up. “Yes, if you’d like to.”

Hyun looks at the girl. She meets his eyes once, blushes harder, and looking at the ceiling, replies, “I guess I have no choice then. Pleased to meet you. My name is Jaehee Kang.”

*

V comes through the door and blinks at them. “Well, doesn’t this look comfy.”

It’s the weekend, and they’re all asleep tangled together in front of the TV. It’s becoming a thing on the days that Jaehee isn’t there to click her tongue and hover.

“Jaehee has work,” Saeyoung explains, spitting out a mouthful of Hyun’s long hair.

“Who’s Jaehee?”

That’s not V’s voice. “Ugh,” realizes Hyun. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

The sound of footsteps is followed by the appearance of The Jerk’s face, upside down, above him. It’s really such a waste to let a walking blight on humankind have such a nice face. Especially those eyes. “No cat would lower itself enough to set one elegant paw in a place as dirty as this.”

“He keeps getting weirder!” Hyun wails toward the ceiling. Then he foolishly adds: “Bite your tongue, asshole. I don’t want those fuzzballs anywhere near me.”

The upside-down face grows thoughtful. “You’re clearly the strange one, to not appreciate--”

“What’s up, V?” Saeyoung says loudly.

V looks bizarrely fond, and it’s such a weird expression for someone only a few years older than Hyun is. “I was enjoying that,” he tells Saeyoung reproachfully, making him wrinkle his nose.

“Hello, V,” says Saeran, rubbing his eyes. “Hello, Mr. Han. Good morning, Saeyoung, good morning Hyun.”

V blurts, “What happened? Your hair--”

Saeran clamps both hands on his head defensively. V’s reaction is justified, because it’s more than the hair: they’d visited an optician to get Saeyoung new glasses, where it turned out that Saeran’s vision was nothing to write home about, either. Getting him colored contacts had been a flash of genius on Saeyoung’s part. Now, the twins weren’t carbon copies of each other, but still looked related. Plus the white hair and green eyes made Saeran look like a magical woodland creature, which was pretty close to how Hyun thought of him anyway.

“We had an accident with the hair dye,” Hyun says. “He had a reaction, and it bleached his hair white, for some reason. Even Jaehee doesn’t know why. We’re keeping an eye out for any side effects, but it’s been a week and he’s still definitely fine.”

Settling into the chubby chaise lounge he paid for, Jumin says, “Who’s Jaehee?” and goes ignored.

Saeyoung says, earnestly, to V, “It makes girls act super nice to Saeran because they think he’s Hyun’s brother. Apparently, that’s how it works in movies.”

“Like you don’t know,” Hyun scoffs. “Who made us stay up watching shitty romcoms all week?”

Saeyoung makes outraged faces at him. “I’m nearly a teenager! I’m interested in everything! Don’t make my healthy curiosity into something weird, Hyun.”

Saeran pops off the couch and disappears into the kitchen, clearly broadcasting what he thinks of the squabble. Hyun bites back the insane urge to apologize. What a snooty fucking kid, he thinks affectionately. He’d thought, because of the politeness and silence that Saeran was less of a little shit than his brother. It turned out that Saeran was actually developing a dry, biting sense of humor that was a thousand times worse than Saeyoung’s sass.

Saeyoung is also eyeing his brother mutinously. “I know what you’re doing! You watched them too! Sure, Hyun and I took turns suggesting the movies, but you were right there watching with us!”

 Saeran pours himself cereal. “They’ve been an emotional series of nights. I understand.”

Then he looks like he bit his tongue, sneaking guilty looks at Hyun through his lashes, like maybe Hyun hadn’t figured out he had a sarcastic streak a mile wide already. Hyun rolls his eyes and grins at him and Saeran’s answering smile puts the sun to shame, full of relief and lingering shyness. Saeyoung flops against Hyun’s side and groans, exaggerated and long-suffering, and Hyun is blindsided for what’s like the thousandth time these past few weeks by how much fondness he feels for these two wayward brats.

Hyun casually puts Saeyoung in a headlock as he says, “Mouse, how are we looking on the milk front?”

Saeran opens the fridge to check. “Jaehee restocked two days ago,” he reports.

“Who’s Jaehee,” Jumin asks, impatience coloring his tone.

“She’s this amazing neighbor we have,” Hyun tells him coldly. “Helped us out when Saeran was having a reaction to the hair dye, and she comes to hang out.”

Jumin’s eyes narrow. “How convenient. So she has constant access to this apartment. Tell me, did you introduce yourselves with your aliases, or go ahead and tell her your real names like idiots?”

Hyun stiffens, feeling his temper flare. He carefully shifts away from Saeyoung to glare Jumin down full in the face. “Jaehee is a good person who came to help us even if it meant getting into trouble at home. Whatever you’re trying to say, you better think twice before you say it.”

“So you did. Hm, I should have known. Tasking an ignorant child with the care of the two biggest political assets of the country had more than enough red flags for me not to even consider it.”

“What is your problem with me?” Hyun demands, stalking over and looming over him. He’s tall, slim and muscular, and he learned the trick of yanking aside his shoulders to look intimidating when he joined the gang. His strange face and coloring added an extra kick to the act. “You’ve been going on about how I wasn’t up to this since day one, even though it’s become _painfully fucking_ _obvious_ that we’re getting on just fine. Dude, I understand if you don’t like me, because I sure as hell don’t like you, but saying I’m not taking good enough care of these kids is just fucking ridiculous.”

An Arctic chill enters Jumin’s eye, and he’s breathtaking in his cold fury, the way his face has gone white except for two angry splotches of red high on his cheeks. Hyun blinks for a moment, thinking _he’s lovely_ before Jumin stands up and snaps, “It’s your incompetence as a person that makes me doubt your performance. How petty, to think I dislike you because of personal reasons. I dislike your inability to take the barest minimum of precaution when you’re interacting with strangers, I dislike how you _grossly underestimate_ the threat that I have been working day and night to protect you from. Do you think, with all his power, the man who is going to become the prime minister of this country can only hire thugs in suits for surveillance? Get your head out of your ass and take a good look at the dangers you face. Spies can be pretty neighbor girls who flutter their lashes at you, too.”

The ridiculousness of the idea of Jaehee fluttering her eyes at _anybody_ should knock the wind out of his sails, but it only makes Hyun angrier. How dare, how dare he--

“Jumin,” V says. “Hyun. As entertaining as it is to watch you fight, I think I have a solution.”

Hyun snaps his gaze away from Jumin. He has to blink to focus properly on V, and the kids.

V smiles. Beside him, Saeran and Saeyoung are crunching away at cereal, looking curious but not, as Hyun keeps half-fearing, traumatized in any way.

“It’s long overdue, but these things take time. I finally have the documents for your new identities,” V says, and pushes a big envelope towards the twins. They set their breakfast aside to tear it open excitedly. V continues, “I put down the names you asked for. Think of them as your baptismal names. I also took the liberty of registering the two of you to a local school.” He smiles, bright and unassuming, and Hyun notes the way Jumin tilts his head suspiciously. “Congratulations on becoming an official family, Zen, Luciel and Helel.”

Hyun blinks down at the ID he picks up from the table. ZEN RYU, it says. V’s right, every one of them share the same family name, and even their photographs look alike thanks to the way Saeran looks a little like both of them.  

It’s a little shocking. Final. Hyun was officially part of a new family, one that he chose, one that he fought for and stood up for. They’re his responsibility; he can’t run away from them the way he did from his old one.

But what could make him run, really? Look at these kids, his brothers. They’re just four years younger and they take care of him so well, they’re the ones who made room for him in their self-contained family of two. They’re kids but they know enough to love him as he is: something no adult has ever done.

And he _loves_ them. Loves them so much his bones ache and his teeth rattle.

He’s too preoccupied to notice the way Saeyoung shuffles up to him, before puts his arms around him. “You look like you’re about to cry,” he explains, head buried in Hyun’s stomach. “It’s okay. Not that I’m happy to be family, or anything, so don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Hyun -Zen- mumbles. His hand comes up to Saeyoung -Luciel’s- mop of red hair. He looks up to where Saeran is hesitating.

Eyes on the ground, Saeran makes his confession: “I’m a little…happy that we’re not just friends. That we’re brothers. It feels more permanent. I, I’m sorry. I’m just being weird.”

Hyun examines his feelings and begins to grin, even as the first tears fall on his face. “Like being married instead of just going out.”

“Oh lord,” Jumin mutters. “He’s going to be _raising children_ like this _.”_

“We’re really looking forward to it, Mr. Han,” Saeran says politely, before obeying Hyun’s beckoning hand and trotting in to join the warm, overfull hug.

Jumin makes a cluck of startled disapproval.

Hyun laughs and holds the twins close. “Best family ever.”

*  
While the twins are preoccupied with snickering at their syllabi for school (apparently they were the kind of nerdy losers who self-studied college-level material), Zen draws V aside, Jumin following.

“You said that I had no idea how powerful their dad was,” he says. “Well, enlighten me.”

Jumin’s eyes go up to the ceiling. “ _Now_ he asks.”

Zen doesn’t look away from V. “I’m not looking to back out,” he grits. “I just need to know what we’re up against.”

V hums thoughtfully. He tells Zen, with all apparent seriousness, “You know, you seem to get handsomer by the day.”

“V!”

“What? You think so too,” he says, and Jumin turns away a second too late to hide his blush from Zen’s curious eyes. V smiles, and says, “If I were that kind of photographer, you’d be the first on my list to model for me.”

“ _V,”_ Jumin snarls.

“Sorry, sorry,” V says without a shred of sincerity. His eyes are dancing with repressed amusement, and Zen is halfway convinced he has a few screws loose because _he’s_ clearly the most handsome one here, especially when he smiles like that. Maybe it’s a tie with Jumin when he’s angry, but either way, Zen doesn’t even come close.

“Hey, sorry, bad habit,” V says apologetically, touching Zen’s arm. “Childhood friends, you know. It’s hard to shake the urge to tease him as much as possible. Now more than ever, since he never gets like this around anyone else. Yeah, sorry, I’ll stop,” he beams at them both, unaffected by Jumin’s glower. “Now, you want to know about their father. It’s a grim subject.”

“Imagine being hunted,” he continues, voice soft. “Imagine everyone knowing your name, your face, and no one being a friend. That is what will happen if he finds out that you’ve helped them escape. And once they find you, you will be nothing more than an accessory to their crime, someone who has information that is too valuable. Killing all of you would be the easiest solution.”

Zen nods, eyebrows knitted. He’d given it a lot of thought over the week, with the TV on and the twins dozing in a pile surrounding him. It was bad; they were constantly on the verge of being in the deepest shit possible. But he had to keep his eyes open. Living in peaceful ignorance wasn’t his style.

“What about you two? I mean, you know the same things we do.”

V exchanges glances with Jumin. “We can protect ourselves. But he’s powerful enough that we can’t extend the protection of our family names to you. For that, we’re truly sorry.”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m getting at,” Zen huffs. “Also, fuck you for assuming we blame you for anything, after you’ve done so much for us,” which makes V’s mouth twitch up in a rueful smile. “What I meant is, we know this secret and we’ve already changed their lives so much. It’s human decency, isn’t it? We want to help them because they’re kids, and it’s unfair. And we’re just three teenagers. Imagine what would happen if it was more. If it was a thousand, ten thousand people. An entire country.”

”The reason we have to keep hiding is because he will kill anyone who knows,” Zen goes on, intense, picturing everything. V’s eyes are wide and alight, following every words sharply. He doesn’t dare look at Jumin.

“But he can’t kill every person who watches, say, a press conference.”

It takes a while for V’s luminous eyes to blink. He looks like he’s struggling to process, even as he begins to smile.

“That’s--” V shakes his head but it’s not negative; he’s smiling brightly.

“How and why,” Jumin says.

Zen bristles, automatically defensive. He bites his lip a second later, unsure about himself when it comes to his actual plan.

“There’s a reason why I was running away from home anyway,” Zen admits. “Even before I met the twins. I was…offered a part.”

They stare at him. Jumin cocks his head. “A part.”

“In a musical.”

V’s eyes go as wide as saucers. “ _Ah,”_ he says. “I assume you were scouted by a director from the city?”

“Yeah. I mean, I was in a few local productions, just to kill the time, and next thing I know this guy tells me that I was highly recommended to play the lead in his new musical,” Zen says, showing them the email on his phone a little hesitantly.

“Hyun, I mean Zen,” V breathes, “this is a big, big deal. This director is one of the best in the country, and The Jalapeno Topping Was Pretty Spicy is the musical that’s been looked forward to for years. It’s supposed to be a masterpiece, and he’s never found an actor to play the lead the way he wants. If you get the part, it’ll be incredible.”

“I can handle publicity,” Luciel says, nursing a can of PhD Pepper with a straw sticking out of it in his hands. He smirks when they look at him. “Come on, you seriously expected us not to listen in? This is kind of important to us, too.”

“You’re okay with it?” Zen asks. “We won’t do it if you don’t want us to. That would mean nothing changed, from how you guys had to live before.”

Luciel sucks on his straw loudly.

Helal breaks the standoff. In a soft, dreamlike voice, he says, “What you want to do for us, Zen, it’s nothing we ever dared to dream of. You’re trying to give us a life without secrets, without hiding, when just a few months ago all I could hope for was not to be tied up to a table as soon as Saeyoung left the house.  I don’t care what the risks are. I don’t think I could care, even if I tried. Even if something awful happened, I’d still be happier than I ever thought I could be.”

V smiles and puts a hand on his shoulder as Zen swallows the thick knot in his throat.

Jumin turns to Luciel, who is still chewing on the straw, albeit with red cheeks and a determined frown. “Publicity,” he says.

“Oh,” Luciel says, and sucks on his straw. “I have,” _suck_ , “my ways,” _suck_ , “and the less you know about them, the better,” _suuuck._

“Is that his breakfast?” Jumin asks, full of distaste and temporarily distracted. “That’s nothing close to a balanced meal.”

“He only gets one unhealthy meal per day,” Zen explains. “Jaehee’s a scary woman.”

V gently guides them back to the point. “If Luciel generates enough publicity for Zen, the media will be curious. And if you get them curious enough, we can invite them all to one big press conference. Simultaneous broadcasts from every channel and every newspaper.”

“I can find reporters I know,” Jumin offers. “We should organize the conference as soon as the play opens, and the hype is going strong.”

V smiles. It’s a smile that Zen has grown to love and to fear, because he can see the full weight of V’s potential in it, his dazzling charisma, his pure heart. And it means he’s got an idea to end all ideas.

“Even better,” V breathes into the silence. “We could invite them all to the party.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is mostly backstory and world-building for a huuuge 'verse I have in my head. Characters who aren't in this fic but are featured later on are: Rika, Yoosung and MC (!!!). I only listed Jumin/Zen in this because it's the only pairing that gets any sort of interaction, but in future installments there will be a helluva lot more ships.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Some additional headcanons, and answering question about this 'verse at[my tumblr](http://wallatile-qvibbler.tumblr.com) and ask me anything!


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